Annihilation

Chapter 4 - The Survivors

TATIANA'S P.O.V

I could hear the quiet murmurs of people. Alive or not, it was impossible to tell, but words were being formed from the various voices filling the contaminated air.

"Dyson, T," Lyndi whispered, tapping our shoulders. She pointed her colourless finger towards a man. The man's jaw hung open wide, blood pouring from his crimson mouth like a waterfall. The man was missing a huge chunk of his arm.

I was dragged behind a dumpster in the stinking alleyway the three of us had decided to hide in for the time being. It was a really terrible choice, with one exit. We're dead if we get found by an entire mob.

I emptied all of my pockets, instructing my friends to do the same. Between us, we have thirteen scalpels, five pairs of scissors, three needles, four knives, and a fork from my school bag and an iron pipe that Lyndi had found.

I shoved my bag into Lyndi's arms, telling her to get changed. I think it wasn't until now that she had noticed she was still wearing the skimpy hospital dress that she had been given weeks ago.

Dyson and I turned our backs as she pulled on the new clothes. Dyson began to cut up the dress with the cleanest pair of scissors we had. I wanted to ask what he was doing, but I didn't want to speak.

I didn't want to get caught. So much as a sound could be the difference between your precious life and your gruesome death at the minute.

I gasped as I noticed two shadows. Two older boys walked down into the alleyway, gripping knives and a baseball bat. One of the boys had brunette, spiked hair and huge muscles. He looked like the kind of guy who would bully.

A guy we all recognise too well.

"Cassius?" Dyson called out. I pounced onto Dyson, forcing my sweaty palm over his dry lips, silencing him. His eyes widened in fear as I kept my hand clamped over his mouth.

"What if they are undead?" I hissed.

"Dyson?"

"Who the hell is Dyson?" The other guy asked.

Dyson used all of his force to pull my bloody hand away from him. He bolted up from behind the dumpster, his knives gripped in his hands.

"Never expected a weakling like you to be alive," Cassius laughed.

"He's not as weak as you think, you big headed bully!" Lyndi called from under the trash bag. Pretty stupid insult, Lyndi.

I looked down to the floor where the cut up dress was. I looked up at a shaking Dyson, noticing the hospital fabric tied around his wrists and head. I copied, being careful not to move the bit bags surrounding my spot. I don't want Cassius to find me.

"At least have the decency to stand up and say that to my face, you ginger slut," Cassius snarled.

Lyndi stood up, my clothes now on her body. She gripped her iron pipe so tightly whatever blood was in her hands had practically disappeared.

"Anyone else with you?" Cassius asked.

"No," Dyson lied. Dyson is the worst liar I know.

"Listen here; curry muncher, if yo-"

"You racist!" I scream. I have a knife in one hand, a scalpel in the other. "Do you want to fight?"

"Bring it on, slapper," Cassius roared.

Just as I'm about to launch a scalpel at Cassius, we all hear a terrifying bellow. Three or four crimson bodies stumble towards us, screaming like a bunch of bloodthirsty predators. I squeal as I pull Dyson to the garbage filled floor, being careful as to not shove a scalpel through his body in the process.